


Goliath

by Robinade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robinade/pseuds/Robinade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the morning, Stiles is hoping really hard that the previous night was all some whacked out dream caused by eating too many burritos. But clearly life hates him, because there’s a huge throbbing bite mark on his hip and it hurts like a bitch. (Or, the one where Stiles is bitten by the alpha instead of Scott.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductory Poem

Stiles skids in the wet leaves as he runs through the forest, but catches himself and keeps going. He can hear Scott stumbling behind him, which, you’d think his BFF would be less clumsy after all the lacrosse training they do (even if they are benched, damn it).

There’s some noise up ahead, that’s not a good thing, right? That can’t be a good thing. Stiles tries to slow down and ends up skidding again, slamming into a tree. Seriously, ow, but at least he’s got something to hide behind. 

“Hey!” he tries to hiss a warning, but the leaves are too wet to slow down and Scott goes tumbling into the clearing.

“Scott.” Oh shit. Stiles knows that voice, it’s his dad!

“H-hey there, Mr Stilinski.” 

Totally failing to play it cool. Ugh.

“Where’s your partner in crime?”

“Who, Stiles?” Scott says innocently. “He stayed at home, wanted to get rested up for the first day of school tomorrow.”

“Oh, really? So what are you doing here then?” Stiles can totally picture the look on his dad’s face, that half exasperated and half disappointed sheriff expression that’s supposed to guilt you into admitting everything. Too bad Scott and Stiles have seen that look so many times, they became immune to it by the time they were twelve.

“I, uh, dropped my inhaler somewhere around here yesterday, I’ve been trying to find it. Those things cost, like, eighty bucks!”

Dad Stilinski doesn’t much sound like he’s buying it, but he’s dragging Scott off, probably to stick him a patrol car and send him home. Which totally means Stiles has to book it the hell out of here before they find his jeep. 

Luckily, the other cops and state troopers or whatever move on a direction that is not a Stiles’ direction. He heads off the other way, moving slowly and quietly until he can’t hear the sounds of the search party before he starts to run for it.

Damn, it’s dark. Where’d he put his flashlight?

Stiles is patting down his pockets when he hears it. A deep, visceral growl.


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was completely horrific, as in, like a horror movie. I thought that thing was gonna eat me! It was all howling and growling and shit.” Stiles waves a hand to emphasize his dire peril and almost smacks a classmate in the face.

In the morning, Stiles is hoping really hard that the previous night was all some whacked out dream caused by eating too many burritos. But clearly life hates him, because there’s a huge throbbing bite mark on his hip and it hurts like a bitch. 

Though Scott looks gratifyingly impressed when Stiles shows it to him at school, so there’s that. 

“Dude, a dog gave you that?” Scott asks, eyes wide. 

“Yeah. It was completely horrific, as in, like a horror movie. I thought that thing was gonna eat me! It was all howling and growling and shit.” Stiles waves a hand to emphasize his dire peril and almost smacks a classmate in the face. Oops, less movement in the hallways might be a good idea. 

“Howling?” Scott says with frown. “Don’t wolves howl? Are you sure it wasn’t a wolf?" 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Duh, of course it wasn’t a wolf. There haven’t been any wolves in California for, like, sixty years.” 

The blank face Scott gives at that is really tragic. It’s like he doesn’t even remember the trips they took to the zoo every year. 

Anything else that might be said is derailed by the appearance of Lydia, who continues to ignore Stiles’ existence despite his best efforts, so he’s totally going to die an old, lonely virgin. On the upside she smells really fantastic, although he’s aware that would sounds pretty creepy if said out loud. 

Class is boring, as expected. The highlight of his day is lunch, because Scott spends the whole time mooning over the new girl Allison, complete with tragic sighs. It’s Scott’s first crush and Stiles finds this to be both adorable and hilarious. He kind of wants to coo that Scott is a real boy now. 

It’s a bit of a relief, if Stiles is honest. There’s only so many times he can give the late-blooming-flower-yes-just-like-Mulan speech before wondering if Scott’s destined to bat for Danny’s team. Or no team at all! That happens, right? Lots of people willingly become priests, so. 

In any case it turns out that it’s not something he’ll need to do research on. Probably a good thing, because his dad is definitely up in arms about his grades this year (Get it? He’s in arms because he’s armed as a sheriff, see?). 

Fast forward to lacrosse practice after school. It starts with coach making Scott goalie, apparently to boost the egos of the first string. It goes about as well as expected. After a while, Scott limps back to the bench and Stiles is picked as the replacement. That’s when things start to take a turn for the freaky. Not as freaky as half a dead body in the woods and getting savaged by someone’s pooch gone wild, but still really weird. 

The first ball comes his way and Stiles is fully prepared to do his best-- in this case, a flinch and some whimpering seem most likely. But then... It’s like the ball is just hanging in the air. Everything around him is in slow motion. Dreamlike, Stiles moves his stick in position to catch the ball. A blink later and everything’s back to normal. 

Can you get hallucinations because of _too little_ adderall? Or maybe someone spiked the tuna surprise at lunch. Stiles is wondering if he should excuse himself to go see the nurse except holy crap he _actually caught the ball_. 

And he just, he keeps on catching it. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed, but he finds himself coming out of a daze. He’s standing in front of the goal, chest heaving with exertion and sweat dripping down his face, under his uniform. He feels better than he has for a long time. 

Co-captain Danny seems surprised and impressed. The other captain, Jackson, looks pissed as hell, which, whatever weirdness is going on, at least he has that much. Pissing off Jackson is the highlight of Stiles’ life sometimes. 

Coach is grinning like a crazy person (because he is a crazy person) and he says, “Keep playing like that Bilinski, and you’re on first string!” 

First day of school assessment: Awesome. 

He’s floating on a high from that news, though he’s not too dazed to notice Lydia-- _Lydia!!_ \-- give him a once over as the team heads to the showers. “Not bad, Stiles,” she says, and maybe Stiles should be more worried that he can hear her from all the way over at the bleachers, what the hell is up with that. But right now he’s more interested in the fact that his dream girl noticed he existed! 

Later, he’s feeling a little less chirpy about the whole thing. That is, it’s cool that Scott is so chill about his sudden jump in the ranks-- in between moaning that he made an ass of himself in front of the girl he likes, because apparently Lydia had brought Allison along to the practice. Now that Stiles isn’t so high on adrenaline and success, he’s a bit more worried about what the hell is going on exactly.

“Nothing about this is normal!” Stiles says to Scott once they get in his car. He’s supposed to drive him straight home after practice, which psshh, yeah right. “One minute I’m just your average high schooler, and the next thing I’m suddenly some kind of ninja! And you know, it’s not just the reflexes. I can smell things, like, ten times better-- which by the way is not a picnic in the locker room. And I totally heard Lydia talking from across the field!”

“Totally weird,” Scott agrees, looking worried. Stiles appreciates that he’s taking this seriously instead of mentioning padded rooms or changing his medication.

“Scott, why _do_ you believe me?” Stiles asks. “Because this seriously sounds like crazy talk and I’m the one doing it.”

“You’re my best friend, dude!” As a boy, Stiles is supposed to be allergic to feelings but this is pretty nice to hear. “And you did a backwards flip in the air today. Yesterday you ripped over your own feet. Something’s definitely up.”

“A fair point,” Stiles acknowledges. “It can’t be coincidence that this happens the day after the creepy night in the woods, either.”

Scott appears to think about this. “Maybe you got bit by a radioactive spider out there?”

“Don’t be dumb, man,” Stiles says as he signals a left and takes them up Beacon Drive. “I already checked. The only bite I have is the one big, hairy, and dangerous gave me.”

“Right. Wait, where are we going?”

“I think I saw the other half of that body in the woods last night.” Stiles feels a little bit excited and also kind of nauseous thinking about it. “I didn’t remember at first, with everything else going on.”

It’s kind of a miracle he manages to find the spot again-- at least he thinks it’s the right spot. The trees look the same but there’s no body.

“I really thought it was here.” Stiles sighs with disappointment. “I dropped my flashlight, too. It should be here somewhere.”

“Maybe we’re in the wrong part of the woods,” Scott suggests doubtfully.

“I don’t think so. I almost threw up on that tree there, I’d recognize it anywhere. Maybe the killer moved the body?”

“What are you doing here?”

Stiles almost falls over, he spins around so fast. Some guy is standing there, looking kind of like a fifties greaser with his leather jacket and foofy hair. He’s also staring at them with a creepily intense gaze.

“This is private property,” the guy says.

“Sorry!” Stiles says, raising his hands up in a we-are-totally-harmless kind of way, because the guy looks ready to rip someone’s throat out.

“Just looking for something my friend lost,” Scott says, which is pretty good thinking.

“We’ll get out of your hair now,” Stiles adds. Before they can move, creepy dude tosses something at Stiles’ head. His newfound Spiderman-like reflexes means he catches it instead of getting a concussion.

Turns out it’s his flashlight! Stiles has no idea what to think about that. And there’s a silent glare following them the entire time they walk away.

Stiles and Scott look at each other as soon as they’ve put enough distance between them and probably-a-serial-killer guy.

“Creepy,” they say in unison.

“Dude,” Stiles says, suddenly remembering. “That was Derek Hale!” Scott just blinks at him. “Derek _Hale_ , the kid whose family all burned to death in that house fire? Jesus. He’s only a couple of years older than we are.” Stiles had been thinking he was a lot older with that grim expression.

“I wonder what he’s doing back,” Scott says.

“Me too.” Stiles frowns, thinking. “Do you think we were on Hale property?”

“What?”

“He said we were on private property. I know we started off on the forest preserve, but I think the Hales lived right by it. And it’s not like there were any signs or fences.”

“Maybe,” Scott shrugs. “Look, I have to get to work. I’m probably late as it is.”

“Right, right,” Stiles says, a bit preoccupied. He’s going to be spending most of the night researching, he just knows it.


	3. The Pool of Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And like Sherlock Holmes said, when you eliminate blah blah whatever remains, however impossible, must be the truth.
> 
> ...What if it hadn’t been a dog in the woods that night?

Stiles wakes up with his face mashed into his computer keyboard and back aching from the terrible position (weirdly enough, he can barely feel the bite on hip at all). He yawns and smacks his lips, trying to get the _ew gross_ morning breath taste out of his mouth, when he spots the clock.

“Shit!” His brains kicks into higher gear as he switches to panic mode. Second day of school and he’s already slept through his first period. Goddamnit.

Stiles is out the door ten minutes later, hopping on one leg to get his other shoe on and a slice of whole-wheat toast in his mouth. But even driving his jeep faster than he should, Stiles doesn’t make it in time for second period. Which is just peachy. There goes his chance to tell Scott what he learned last night. His brain is still processing the data-- it would definitely help to talk it out, and Stiles has learned the hard way that it looks a lot better to be talking to a person instead of thin air.

The thing is, Stiles hasn’t been able to find a rational explanation for his sudden abilities (including super-strength, and yeah, that had been a surprise, lifting the couch up accidentally when he was looking for his missing shoe; plus the fact that his bite has healed to the point that it looks weeks old instead of days). At least, explanations that don’t involve drugs. He’s definitely not on steroids or high on PCP, and last he checked adderall didn’t have those kind of side effects.

(Though it would be seriously awesome if it did. But then every kid on the planet with ADD suddenly getting superpowers. Shit. That would be scary. Ix-nay on the owers-pay.)

And like Sherlock Holmes said, when you eliminate blah blah whatever remains, however impossible, must be the truth.

...What if it hadn’t been a dog in the woods that night?

Stiles seriously needs to figure this out. He could get Scott during lunch... But Tuesdays he takes lunch to his dad. And the fact that Stiles woke up at the computer means his dad never went home last night (what can he say, his dad’s a stickler for sleeping on actual beds). He knows that the sheriff will put the job before his health when serious shit is going down, and what could be more serious than an actual dead body in the woods? Maybe more dead bodies. Ugh. But the point is, Stiles has to keep an eye on his dad.

So he suffers through third and fourth period, and he knows that he should probably be paying attention, it being the second day of school after all, but whatever. He’ll read ahead in the textbook on the weekend.

Lunch is a paper bag full of lowfat soft tacos from the tex-mex place downtown. The ground meat is a quarter soy-- a fact which he has successfully kept from his father so far. Stiles eats half the bag of nachos that comes with the food, purely so his dad won’t be tempted to overload on fried things.

Stiles is aware that he’s overreacting a little to the doctor’s report that his dad has high blood pressure. He can’t really make himself stop doing it, though. He’s already lost one parent, he’s not going to lose another if he has anything to say about it. The grim reaper will have to pry his dad from Stiles’ cold, dead... Yeah, he knows that metaphor needs work.

“Tacos?” the sheriff says hopefully as Stiles enters his office.

“Soft tacos,” Stiles tells him.

“Close enough.”

His dad makes grabby hands for the bag and Stiles rolls his eyes before handing it over. “You got the drinks?” He gets a nod toward the filing cabinets, where there are a couple bottles of Dr Pepper. “Sweet.”

His dad is already on his second taco by the time Stiles is halfway through his first. And considering Stiles has been known to eat his weight in junk food given the opportunity, this is pretty impressive.

“Slow it down, sheriff man! It’s not like it’s gonna run away from you,” Stiles says.

“Sue me, I’m hungry,” the sheriff answers around a mouthful of beef and shredded lettuce.

“Did you not have breakfast?” Stiles asks, frowning. His dad’s guilty expressions says it all. “Did you at least have _dinner_?”

“I ate something,” his dad protests.

“Oatmeal cookies and Cheetos from the vending machine do not count as food!” If Stiles had hair long enough to pull, he’d be pulling it in frustration. Between his dad and Scott, Stiles would be bald by now if he hadn’t started buzzing it short.

The phone rings. “Hold that thought,” the sheriff says before adding, “On second thought, don’t. Move on with your life. Stop obsessing over my diet.”

Stiles makes a face at him and gets back to eating his soft taco. He eavesdrops long enough to figure out that it’s the forensics guy, who always calls about boring things, like the size of some dude’s shoe print mixed in with incomprehensible terminology.

He has no interest in the conversation up until he hears his dad say, “Wolf hair?” and he nearly swallows his tongue.

“Right. I understand. So we’re ruling it as an animal attack? Okay. Uh huh. Keep me posted.” The sheriff comes back from where he’d wandered over to the windows and sits heavily in his chair.

Stiles smiles weakly at him.

“You shouldn’t have heard that,” his dad says tiredly.

“You say that like I wouldn’t have found out anyway,” Stiles says.

His dad nods, conceding the point. He looks at Stiles, weariness and worry plain on his face. “You’ll be safe if you stay away from the woods.”

“Right,” Stiles says, fighting hysterical laughter.

He doesn’t remember driving back to school and the rest of his classes are a blur. He’s got one word repeating in a loop in his head, blocking out everything else. _Werewolf. Werewolf. Werewolf._

Stiles doesn’t really resurface until he’s standing in front of his locker and staring into it when something calls his name,

It’s Lydia. Stiles blinks, mind suddenly wiped clean of any other thought than _holy shit!_

“You’re going to be late for lacrosse,” she says. “Aren’t trials today?”

“Y-yeah. They are.”

She arches a perfectly defined eyebrow. “Well?”

“I, uh-- oh! _Oh!_ ” He scrambles for his gym bag and takes off down the hallway.

“Stiles!”

He almost trips over himself when he turns back to face her before he’d completely stopped walking.

“It’s the other way,” Lydia says, hooking her thumb to indicate the opposite way down the hallway.

Stiles knows his face is completely red as he runs past her.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to blame Kreugan (AKA Fornax) for this, because she livestream'd Teen Wolf and got me into it.


End file.
